


Tippy-Toe Kisses

by Silent_So_Long



Series: otpprompts [38]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4285665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and tippy-toes kisses</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tippy-Toe Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the following prompt posted upon tumblr’s otpprompts: [Imagine Person A of your OTP noticing for the first time that Person B has to stand on their tippy-toes to kiss them. A can’t stop laughing. B’s reaction is up to you. Either way, more kissing and cuddling ensues.](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/121120100514/imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-noticing-for-the)
> 
> I realize that Paul is not really _that_ much smaller than Richard and as such wouldn’t have to go quite so high on tiptoes to reach Richard’s mouth; just for the purposes of this story though, just pretend he is as small as the Rammdom often seems to make him out to be. :o) (I think Paul‘s lovely, no matter his size. ♥ )

Richard stood alone in the kitchen, the aroma of frying bacon sending steamy curlicues of homeliness and comfort around him, as well as the accompanying sounds of crackling sizzles whilst the meat cooked. He scraped at the rashers with his spatula, moving the slices of meat around to prevent them from sticking to the bottom of the frying pan. He flipped them over, to ensure that they cooked on both sides and all the way through, and the motion sent crackles of spitting sounds arcing through the air; they almost were done, meat slowly taking on darker hues and curling into frilly shapes against the bottom of the pan.

Beside him lay two plates on which slices of buttered bread were laid; great wet dollops of tomato ketchup looked almost obscenely red against the whiteness of the bread and the yellow-by-comparison butter. He looked up when he heard Paul shuffling and yawning his way into the kitchen; the soft nap of his dressing gown was still securely wrapped around Paul’s body, belt cinched tightly around his waist. His hair was tousled, forming soft mussed brown peaks above his forehead; his eyes were half-closed and slightly puffy with sleep. Paul’s face was soon wreathed in smiles, and his eyes closed still further in amidst his grin-induced wrinkles. 

“Hallo, Paulchen,” Richard said, as he leant away from the pan to pucker his lips towards Paul.

Paul’s nose crinkled in his sudden amusement, before he shuffled closer against Richard's body; he rose on tiptoes to press his lips warmly against Richard’s own. Richard closed his eyes and smiled into the kiss, smile soon turning into sudden snorting laughter once it had registered how far that Paul had had to rise onto his toes to reach him. Paul turned away with a look of surprise on his face, frown lowering his brows over his eyes suddenly as he stared at Richard at close range. It looked almost as though Paul didn’t know whether the to be offended or not at Richard's laughter; Richard turned back to his pan and swiftly flipped the now cooked pieces of meat onto the waiting slices of bread expertly before they caught and burned. 

“What’s so funny?” Paul asked, when Richard didn’t immediately explain the source of his laughter. 

“Nothing,” Richard said, uncertain as to what to say to Paul under the circumstances. 

“You can't laugh over nothing,” Paul said, and hurt was beginning to show in his tone now, darkening his words and turning them sad almost. “I didn’t know that my kisses were that funny.” 

“Your kisses aren’t funny; they’re actually really nice,” Richard said, as he slapped the remaining pieces bread over the bacon to form slap-dash and messy sandwiches. 

“Well, don’t sound so surprised, Reesh,” Paul huffed as he turned away. “I've never had any complaints before.” 

“What’s that? Are you trying to make me jealous?” Richard asked, in surprise.

“Maybe,” Paul offered, even as he gave Richard a sideling glance and a half smile. “You were the one laughing.”

“Oh, honestly. Come here,” Richard said, as he gestured towards Paul again.

Paul didn’t immediately move; instead, he turned his face away, whilst pretending to be offended. 

“Come here, Paul,” Richard repeated, with a sigh.

When Paul still refused to move, Richard then closed the distance between them himself and wrapped his arms around Paul's body; he felt the worn nap of the other man’s dressing gown against his palms as he bent slightly to kiss Paul again. Paul rose up on his tiptoes to return the kiss. Again Richard began to laugh against him and when he looked away, Paul looked genuinely angry at that, grey-blue eyes turned darker with his reaction. 

“What?” Paul asked, and his voice was tight and dark.

“I didn’t realize you had to go up so far on tippy-toes to kiss me before, is all,” Richard finally said, after his laughter had diminished a little. “It's cute.” 

“Fuck you, Richard, I don’t wanna be cute,” Paul said, with an attempt at a little pout that did little to divest himself of his own cuteness. 

Richard laughed again before he pulled Paul into a hug, and attempted to lay kisses against Paul’s mouth; Paul attempted to turn away but by the twitching of his mouth into an inadvertent smile, Richard could tell that Paul wasn’t as angry or as offended as he’d made out. In time, Paul relented and turned his mouth towards Richard’s, the warm line of it soft and malleable against Richard’s own; Paul even made a satisfied murmur against Richard's kisses, smile lifting the corners of his mouth as the other man’s body settled comfortably into Richard‘s embrace. Richard finally, reluctantly pulled away before he nodded towards the now cooling bacon sandwiches he’d made.

“You’d best eat your sandwich before it gets too cold,” he said. 

“Can I get some coffee with that, d’you think?” Paul asked, with a yawn as he slipped his plate from the work-surface and took it over to the table.

“What did your last slave die of?” Richard asked. 

Paul merely gave him the middle finger which made Richard laugh; Richard started to make the coffee, interspersing spooning coffee grounds into their mugs and boiling the coffee with taking bites of his sandwich. When the water had finally boiled, Richard settled his half-eaten sandwich back upon its plate, smears of grease and ketchup decorating his hand; he wiped it on a wad of tissues, before he poured water into the waiting mugs. Paul had already finished his sandwich by the time that Richard had stirred and served him his coffee; Richard settled opposite Paul at the table and they drank their beverage in companionable silence, Paul’s eyes mostly closing with contentment over his drink. Neither man spoke until their coffee was gone and their dirty plates and mugs had been washed in the sink; it was Paul that actually broke the silence. 

“I still don’t think it’s funny, you know,” he said, iwth a sidelong glance at Richard.

“What isn’t?” Richard asked, in sudden confusion. 

“Me going on tippy-toes,” Paul said. “I don’t laugh at you, for having to bend down a little.”

“Are we still on about this? I told you I thought it was cute,” Richard said, as he stared at Paul in consternation. “Jesus, Paul; we’ve been in a relationship for years now. You should know after all this time that I’m fucking crazy about you. I don’t know what I have to do to prove that to you.” 

“I know something you can do,” Paul said, as he raised one eyebrow at Richard. 

“What?” Richard asked, in exasperation. 

“Give me a kiss first and then we'll go from there,” Paul said. “And don’t laugh at me.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Richard said, as he shook his head at Paul. 

Still, he closed the distance between them, to rest his hands upon the other man’s hips. He felt the warmth of Paul’s body leaching through the soft nap of his dressing gown, and the softness of the material itself. He smiled at Paul, at the way that the other man’s expression had turned soft and hopeful despite the sternness of his earlier words. Richard couldn’t help but feel a sudden surge of love for the other man; he’d meant it when he’d said that he was crazy about Paul. Paul’s face softened still further into a touched smile; he must have seen something of Richard's thoughts on his face; Richard could see something of Paul’s own love mirrored in the other man’s eyes and the malleability of Paul’s body against his own.

Richard closed the distance between them still further, before he felt the soft press of Paul’s lips against his own, and the wet lap of the other man’s tongue gently probing against his mouth. Richard opened up eagerly for him, and felt the first soft strokes of Paul’s tongue ageist his own; he felt a swift twist of desire rocket through his body at that. His cock began to stiffen and press against the front of his boxers and he settled closer, before he purposefully ground his hips against Paul’s own. Paul broke away with a loud moan, eyes closed, cheeks flushed slightly, lips parted and kiss-bitten; in that one moment, Paul looked fuckable and Richard settled still closer, hands travelling down to cup the other man‘s ass. The last thing on his mind was laughter. He felt the first press of Paul’s erection rubbing against his own and he ground his hips against the other man’s again; his moan joined with Paul’s, soft and low and dark in the brightly lit kitchen.

“Bedroom, now,” Richard growled against Paul’s neck as he bent in to press kisses and nips against the other man’s skin.

Paul swore, arousal darkening his tone and turning his breathing choppy and eager, blasting in warm hits against Richard's cheek. Richard ushered Paul through to the bedroom, and he felt Paul’s hands roaming over his body, fingers stripping him of his shirt and belt, palm brushing against his rapidly stiffening cock as Paul pulled Richard's trousers down. Richard swore as Paul's hand returned to press against his erection, to rub against it through the cloth of Richard’s boxers; Richard's mind was incoherent with need, thoughts spiralling and ratcheting out of his reach so that he thought of nothing but Paul and the weight of his hand against his cock.

“You like that, huh?” Paul asked, as he slid his hand inside Richard’s boxers, and wrapped warm fingers around Richard’s cock.

Richard swore even as he nodded, eyes closing, head thrown back as Paul began to stroke him, awkwardly because of the restriction of his underwear. His breathing was harsh and seemed to fill the room, and he cursed again when Paul pulled away, with a smirk on his lips and a promise in his eyes. 

“Get on the bed,” Paul said, and it was more a command than a request.

Richard felt a sudden surge of lust and he didn’t hesitate to do as Paul had bidden; whilst it wasn’t often that Paul took control in the bedroom, Richard knew that they were in for a good time on the rare occasion that it did. He wriggled out of his restrictive boxers, watching as Paul stripped out of his dressing gown; it was only then that Richard realized that Paul had been naked beneath the gown the entire time. He’d assumed that the other man had at least had his underwear on; another surge of lust rocketed through him then and he took himself in hand and began to stroke at himself roughly.

“Stop,” Paul said, as he rested the pads of his fingertips against the back of Richard’s hand.

There was no real pressure there, yet Richard stopped all the same, but not without an effort. He gritted his teeth and waited for Paul to return from the bathroom, with lube and condoms in hand. Richard watched the progress of Paul’s naked body through the gloom of their room, as the other man settled on his side of the bed, kneeling on the soft mattress facing him. Richard continued to watch as Paul began to squirt lube on his fingers; Richard began to turn over, yet Paul’s dry hand suddenly snaked out to slap Richard harshly on the hip.

“Stay on your back,” he said, tone harsh and commanding.

Richard stayed where he was, legs hastily drawn up, eyes partially closed as he waited for the press of Paul’s finger against his entrance. His wait was rewarded, and he hissed his way through the initial burn and stretch of it; another brief pause and Paul began to move again, slick hand dipping and stretching and soon adding a second finger. 

Richard was a panting mess of arousal and excitement by the time that Paul eased away; he watched as the other man began to prepare himself, deft fingers rolling on a condom, slowly, too slowly for Richard’s growing impatience.

“Fucking hurry, Paul; want you in me,” Richard panted out.

Paul grinned at that and seemed to deliberately slow his movements. Richard swore again and finally, he was rewarded by Paul’s weight settling down upon him, chests aligned, stomachs soft and malleable against each other.

Paul pecked a kiss against Richard’s shoulder, lips wet and tongue wetter as he reached down to guide himself into Richard; Richard swore, back arching up to press his chest eagerly against Paul’s as the other man finally fully sheathed himself inside him. Richard waited, Paul waited, and then the other man began to move, hips rolling gently against Richard's at first, before he picked up the pace, thrusting harder, deeper, faster. Richard lost himself to the other man then, loud moans permeating and peppering the air, mingled with soft curses and groans of Paul’s name; Paul's breath came hard and fast and blasted against Richard's neck. Paul sometimes dotted messy kisses against Richard’s mouth, most of which Richard returned, hands exploring Paul’s body whilst the other man continued thrusting into him. 

“Touch yourself,” Paul panted out.

Richard reached between them and began to wrap eager fingers around his erection, before he began to stroke himself in time with Paul’s thrusts, legs hiking up still further so that Paul could have better access to him. Paul adjusted the angle slightly and Richard groaned as pleasure burst in waves through his body, seeming to pulse in time with every one of Paul‘s thrusts. He didn’t last long before he spilled out over his hand, and their abdomens, Paul’s name a soft sigh against the other man’s cheek. 

Paul continued to thrust into him, before he came, head buried in the soft curve where Richard’s neck met his shoulder, breath hot and Richard's name a panted gasp against his skin. Richard held the other man through his climax, felt the wracking waves of it shivering through Paul's body, before the other man finally lay still. Paul shifted slightly, mouth leaving sloppy kisses against Richard’s lips; Richard returned every one of them, tongue arcing out to meet Paul's in mid-air, before their mouths closed together in another soft kiss. 

Paul eventually eased away, to lay beside Richard, eyes closed, yet a smile graced his mouth. Richard watched him for a while, traced patterns against Paul’s abdomen, and misled when the other man finally rolled against him again, arm sliding across Richard’s hips so that his hand finally shored up in the region of his mid-back. 

“See? Height isn’t everything, Reesh,” Paul said, with a smirk.

“Never said that it was,” Richard said. “Like I said before, I’m fucking crazy about you.”

Paul at least smiled at that and pressed a kiss against Richard’s shoulder.

“Love you,” he murmured against Richard's throat.

“Me, too,” Richard whispered back, as he ran his fingers against the curve of Paul’s ass. “I wouldn’t mind if you fucked me like that again, pretty soon.” 

“Give me a while longer, Reesh, and I will,” Paul said, with a laugh against his shoulder. “Glad I can keep you satisfied with something other than kisses.” 

“I told you, I love your kisses, but satisfied doesn‘t quite begin to cover it,” Richard laughed.

Paul’s grin was sudden and sharp in the gloom, before he leant in to kiss Richard again; Richard closed his eyes and slid his clean hand through the strands of Paul’s hair, lips meeting and parting in the silence of their bedroom. That time, he didn’t laugh, too invested in the man he held in his arms to think of anything other than pleasure.


End file.
